Art was still looking out the window, trying to figure out what was going on with his neighbors and first targets, when he heard a voice behind him, “Fuck, what are ya doin’ here, cunt?”
Art spun around and found himself face to face with Julian, who’d just stepped out of his room. This close to the kinky skinhead, Art could get a much better look at the piece of skintrash he’d made, and he was getting turned on again, when he yelped, feeling a sudden pain in his nose. He raised his hand to it and felt a thick horseshoe hanging from his septum, and just looked at Julian, confused.
“Looks fuckin’ good on ya, pig,” Julian said, and strutted over, “Think you need some more though.” Julian smashed his face into his, kissing him, and biting him? No, they weren’t bites, they were piercings, and he lost count of them by the time Art managed to shove Julian away and stumble back against the window. “Nice,” Julian said, smirking, “Fucking face full a metal, fuckin’ awesome.”
Art spun around and found his reflection in the mirror, and sure enough, his face was, almost literally full of metal…and more. mostly in was piercings, but stranger than that even. He had…holes in his cheeks, and…he could see his teeth through them. He opened his mouth to scream, and saw that his tongue was pierced as well and forked down the middle–split right in two. But the holes in his cheeks, they needed…something. He reached into the pocket of his pants and found two cigars there, and salivating already, he shoved one in each of his cheekholes, holding them in place with his teeth, and lit them. The cigars were big enough to plug the holes solid, letting him inhale smoke from both, and exhale the smoke in a plume out his nose.
“Fuck that’s hot,” Julian said, and grabbed Art’s hand, “Get it here, I wanna fuck.”
Art was dragged along, his head clouding with smoke, and it felt like he was just growing stupider. Still a fuck sounded good, yeah, he could use a good fuck, especially with a hot skin freak like Julian. He was so fuckin’ hot, a hot fuckin’ piece of meat. From where Julian gripped his hand, tattoos were spiraling quickly up Julian’s arm and across his entire body. The motif, appeared to be smoke, tribal swirls all over his body originating from two massive cigars crossed on his chest and belly, with an identical image on his back. Julian ripped Art’s clothes off and stripped him down, but looked down at the man’s cock, obviously dissatisfied.
“No fuckin’ good, gonna have to do some shit to this, gonna freak you the fuck up,” Julian said, and started sucking on Art’s ball sack, and he felt it just start–growing. In less than a minute, Julian couldn’t even keep it in his mouth, and he just started licking the sack as the silicone Art had injected into it over years accumulated until it was about as large as a watermelon. Apparently satisfied, Julian moved onto his cock, and like his sack, it grew as well, but rather than the soft, cushy silicone of his sack, his cock was stretched and extended with hard, rigid silicone until it was little more than a fourteen inch, permanently rigid dildo covered with his own tattooed skin, with countless pearls inserted under his skin as well.
“Now that’s what I’m talkin’ about,” Julian said, “That’s a fucking cock that I want to ride!”
“Then climb on fucker!” Art said, exhaling a thick stream of smoke out his mouth, his words distorted and twisted by his new tongue, “Split yourself on it like the skintrash you are.”
Julian didn’t need permission though, he was already dropping his jeans and unzipping the back of his rubber body suit, lowering his well stretched hole onto Art’s massive shaft, fucking himself roughly on the new skinpig’s permanently rigid cock, Art enjoying the feeling of smoke coursing through his body as Julian pleasured himself on his shaft. Out in the hallway, the glasses sat on the carpet for a moment and then faded away, their task complete. While Art and Julian enjoyed themselves, however, the other strains of the contagion all spread out of their houses, looking for other people to infect. What happens next?
***
Alright, so here’s the plan. I’ll probably write 5-7 more entries in this story before going back to captions and vignettes. What I’d like to do is see how these four “strains” infect the people in the neighborhood/city/college campus/etc. These strains, however, mutate. So, considering Julian and Art, Art, having been infected, can also spread his infection, but it’s not the same as Julian’s–rather, he makes men that crave anal stimulation. Hope this all makes sense, I’m sure you’ll all figure it out. Now, the choices. Who should we follow?
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Walt’s son, newly changed into a hot bearcub by his father, leaves the house to go play with his teenage friends, infecting them so that:
a. all of his friends rapidly age into their fifties, new daddies who gang rape their cub friend.
b. all of his friends become cubs too, but with a variety of different fetishes.
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Eric and Charley leave and head for college. Do they:
a. meet with a younger professor, aging him into a pipe smoking grandfather?
b. meet a couple of friends from a fraternity, who become their brothers in real life?
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Trent realizes he’s late for football practice, and:
a. he reaches the locker room while the team is still there, and he bottoms for the orgy that follows?
b. he has a meeting with coach about his attendance, which results in some “discipline”.
Feel free to float your own variations and ideas as well, along with your vote. What do you think?
Bracken's Corner 